


The In Between

by DaineYui



Series: Long Lost Child Series [3]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-01-23 21:08:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21326701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaineYui/pseuds/DaineYui
Summary: The Lost Chapters of Long Lost Child for Part I and Part II (The Other Side)(Aka the ones that didn’t make the cut for plot purposes or scenes that were asked about by readers that inspired me!)
Relationships: Eleven | Jane Hopper/Mike Wheeler, Jonathan Byers/Nancy Wheeler, More to come...
Series: Long Lost Child Series [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1537465
Comments: 81
Kudos: 80





	1. Twin? What is Twin?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ironexe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironexe/gifts), [Zilo88](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zilo88/gifts), [noDownSide](https://archiveofourown.org/users/noDownSide/gifts).

> A/N – It’s very likely that these won’t be in any chronological order. But I’ll make a note as to where the specific scene/chapter would have fallen if it had made the cut! Also, I realize that the Long Lost Child and The Other Side can be rather dark to read (and especially to write!). My hope is that some of these missing scenes will be lighter in nature. If you're interested in sending me potential prompts of scenes you'd wished you'd read or hope to read, I can't promise to do all of them but I will definitely keep a list and will do my best to tackle them and gift them to whoever initially prompted them!!!

Chapter: Twin? What is Twin? (Gift for Ironexe who inspired this chappie)

_Missing chappie from Part I_

El frowns at Hopper's explanation of what a twin is (_she would have asked earlier on but really, her one and only focus had been Mike and he'd been way too upset to hold onto any questions. But now he was gone at Will's and she couldn't see him, couldn't be with him and so the questions about this long lost brother... this twin... had reared back into her mind and wouldn't leave her alone_). It's a sibling, different than Nancy or Holly in that twins are born at the same time. They can be identical or fraternal. She blinks at him in a clear, please explain further. Hopper sighs. 

"Kid, identical means the same. With twins it means they're genetically the same." Oh shit. Now he knows he's going to have to find the definition of 'genetically'. Or maybe not. Maybe he can take a short cut. "It means they look alike." 

"So...two Mikes?" She asks, frown deepening. That doesn't seem possible. Mike is Mike. How could there be two of him?

"It's an oversimplification, but sure. If Mike's twin is an identical twin, they're gonna look really similar but he's going to have a different name kiddo. He may even have a different hair cut or different personality." 

"Oh." He watches and waits for her to process this information, knowing that another question is bound to follow. She may be naive to the world and certain concepts due to lack of exposure, but El /is/ smart. And she absorbs new information like a sponge. He sees her suck her bottom lip in for a brief moment and then she releases it with a little sigh.

"What is fraternal?" Hopper knew it and he can't help but grin at her, pride bubbling inside his chest at the girl's intelligence and curiosity. 

"It's two siblings that are born at the same time but not identical. They're most likely gonna be of different sexes. Like a boy and a girl but…" He trails off catching himself cause he knows again, it's a bit more complicated. But hell, sciences had _never_ been his forte. "It can also be a boy and a boy or a girl and girl." She nods at this and wrinkles her nose. He feels for her. This entire conversation, despite it filling him with pride, is also giving him a headache. 

Time to nurse an ice-cold beer and crack open his damned dictionary. Or wait, didn’t he have some encyclopedias around here?

...

It's days and days later, after Richie has been in Hawkins for several days and Mike is dealing with his "grounding" for a school fight when El's cat like curiosity finally gets the better of her. She's been visiting the Void to check on Mike nearly every day but she's yet to include Richie in that. Her focus has always been too intent on Mike but with all of what he's shared in his letters to her, she just can't wait anymore for the official introduction. 

So she waits for Hopper to leave for work before sitting near the television and switching the channel to the dead one. The one with no fun or interesting shows. Just snow. 

As the dead channel appears in front of her, she quickly knots her bandanna across her eyes and then she thinks of Mike. She thinks of Richie, of what she's been told about him, an identical twin who is alike yet different from Mike. And she lets his name fall from her lips. 

The Void surrounds her and she waits, just slightly impatient, as the classroom starts to slowly materialize in the dark space. She notices Mike first as always. It’s like there’s a magnetic pull that always leads her back to him and a smile finds its way onto her face, tugging at her lips at the sight of him. The warmth that fills her chest is comforting and she moves closer to him, careful to not focus too much on him so that the Void can continue forming itself around her.

Mike is looking straight ahead, most likely at the teacher that she cannot see or hear at the moment. But something catches his attention and for the briefest of moments, she thinks he sees her as his dark brown eyes blinks up at her but then his glance moves away, slight frown furrowing his eyebrows and scrunching his forehead. The frown melts away rapidly as he suddenly rolls his eyes and shakes his head. El follows his gaze and her breath catches in her throat.

Oh…

Richie’s position is slouched, leaning back in his equally small and cramped school chair and desk contraption, long legs shooting out in front of him with one foot tapping a fast beat tempo.

Twin…

It makes sense now. The word. And they _must_ be identical because Richie _is_ like Mike yet not. They have the same eyes, the same tall and lanky bodies, the same dark wavy curly yet not hair that looks like it would be soft to touch (_it is, at least Mike’s is_). They even have a somewhat similar _feel_ to them. A deep seated kindness and protective strength that El had read in Mike the first moment they’d looked at one another that dark rainy night when she’d been lost in the woods. She’d known instinctively that she could trust him.

She feels in her gut that Richie is also like this. That he is simply _good_. She blinks in awe at seeing the two of them together and moves closer to Richie to get a better look.

He’s smiling widely, brown eyes magnified by the glasses perched on a freckled nose, and his hands are very quickly folding a piece of paper into a diamond shape that he then flicks over to Mike’s desk. He looks mischievous and playful and she can’t help but want to laugh and join in whatever game he’s playing.

Mike’s expression at receiving the piece of paper is a mix of amusement and exasperation. She’s seen this expression before – mainly targeting Dustin and it makes her smile widen. Yet despite the exasperation, his long pale fingers make quick work of the folding and she watches as his eyes scan the message that Richie had hurriedly jotted down. He rolls his eyes again before furtively looking up ahead as if making sure he’s not going to get caught writing back to his twin.

Despite him still looking tired, the deep distress that had been causing him to shrink into himself before Richie arrived seems to be gone and she notices how his shoulders seem more straight and less rounded forward.

El watches the two of them for minutes longer, captivated by the way they speak without words and instead simple gestures, shrugs, and facial expressions. They look like they’ve known each other for years instead of days. And there’s something satisfying seeing the two of them together. Like they’re finally whole, and at peace. Like they’re home.

When El finally lets the Void go, the headache she experiences is worth it. She knows that when she gets Mike’s letter later that night, she’ll have an easier time imagining Richie.

The Mike who’s not Mike yet is.

Does it help her be more patient about when she can actually meet Mike’s twin? Hell no. But that’s an entirely other story and one that Hopper has to deal with all on his own.


	2. Happy Birthday!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missing Chapter from Lost Long Child - Mike and Richie turning 14!

Chapter: Happy Birthday! (Aka You’re now 14!)

_Missing Chappie from Part I – Takes Place Sometime Early to Mid April_

Richie is unceremoniously woken up by Mikey who is grinning at him from his bed, pillow-less. Pillow-less because the motherfucker apparently had decided that it would be a hoot and half to peg Richie in the head with it. He’s not in the slightest impressed and gives his brother a glare albeit still blind without his glasses.

“What the fuck, Mikey!?” Is what he thinks he says. In reality, the words come out all garbled because his face is still buried in his own pillow and so, it sounds more like “…at fk…!?” Or something along the lines. Still his tone alone can carry across his displeasure. He sniffs in his brother’s general direction and reburies himself more deeply under his covers.

It’s fucking Saturday. There’s NO WAY he’s getting up before he’s damned ready to do so. Like maybe some time _after_ noon. That was civilized. Not this early morning crap that he is sure it is because it’s still way too dark for the sun to be at any reasonable height in the sky. And if the sun isn’t up, he’s not going to be. Fuck that.

“Get up! Get up!” Holy fuck he is going to _kill_ his brother. What the hell is wrong with him and what had he eaten that he was this damn chipper and excited during this unholy hour, anyway?

Richie is not about to get up and merely curls up tighter under the blankets, making a grumbling growling noise that should make his position on the matter abundantly clear. Mikey apparently is being oblivious on _purpose_ as the mother fucker merely bounces on the corner of his mattress that he’s not currently residing. He feels the blankets getting dragged off of him and he yowls his displeasure. It doesn’t quite get him the reaction he wants though as Mikey laughs and jumps away, blankets in tow.

Richie is now 100% convinced that someone’s taken his overly responsible, frowning bastard of a twin and replaced him with an absolute mouth breathing asshat! “I am going to _kill _you!!!”

“On our birthday? Really?!” Mikey isn’t at all concerned with the _real_ threat and merely ducks the pillows that are now being thrown in his general direction. Richie really can’t see for shit without his glasses. Life really is unfair. He grumbles at the blob that is currently his twin and reaches for his glasses when Mikey’s words finally hit him. _Our birthday_, what?!

Richie sits up and blinks owlishly at Mikey.

“What?” He croaks finally when Mikey doesn’t answer his previously mute question. Mikey grins at him, dropping the blankets on the ground near his feet and slowly leans back against the wall.

“It’s our birthday, doofus… happy birthday.” When Richie simply continues to stare at him, Mikey’s grin falters and he suddenly looks unsure. “… it is our birthday, right? Like they didn’t change the date on me, right?”

Richie blinks again before swallowing hard. “It’s already our birthday?” Mikey nods slowly and Richie can’t help but mentally add up the math. In his head, the number of days, months really now, that he’s seen his mom and the different number that matches the time lapsed since he’s last seen the Losers dances around. It’s a little like poking an open sore, where the edges had just been slowly but surely healing.

Maybe it shows on his face because Mikey comes and sits next to him, shoulders knocking into each other in a show of comfort and solidarity. His high excited energy now muted.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just…” He trails off. This wasn’t the Saturday he’d had in mind. And he’s not sure what to do with the information. The very real realization that he’s now fourteen, away from home and friends, but still with family, a new home, and surrounded by new friends and if Mikey’s excitement is any indication, they’re ready to celebrate this with him… With them. It’s hard to wrap his brain around it all. “…I can’t believe we’re already in May…or that we’re gonna be… we already are I guess… fourteen.” Mikey makes a little humming noise, that’s not an agreement and instead is more of a confirmation of the statement. “…what…like… what the fuck should I be expecting anyway?”

“For our birthday?” The question sounds surprised. The silence that answers it is louder than any well placed _duh, fuckhead_ would have been. Mikey gives him a slight shove for it anyway before answering. “Birthday breakfast with the family and then the Party’s coming over for lunch and a sleepover.” Richie blinks at his brother owlishly again behind the glasses but this time with a suspicious glint in the brown eyes. There’s a sudden realization that maybe those notes that Mikey had been passing back and forth with Doe Eyes in class had not been about Ellie Belle after all like he’d originally assumed and more to do about secretly planning this whole mess.

“You plotted this!” The little smirk that comes tugging at Mikey’s lips reveals all. It doesn’t help that his twin jumps back up and away as if he has a 6th sense telling him that Richie is about to pummel him to death with a pillow. Not that he has any near him. Damn it.

Still… he grudgingly gets up and follows his twin’s chuckling down the stairs. It feels weird. It feels like he’s entering unknown territory in some ways. But a family celebrating his birthday… it couldn’t be bad, could it?

…

Mike makes his way downstairs, still happy but a little bit more unsure about his grand plan than he has been all week. It had made sense before. To secretly plan out a birthday celebration that the Party could remember for the ages, weirdly, a better welcome to Richie than they’d actually given him.

But seeing his brother’s blank expression as the date sunk in… and that very real _oh fuck…what if they lied about our birthdate_… Mike’s not as sure of anything anymore. Still, it’s a bit too late to suddenly back pedal and there’s no button to press stop, rewind and redo the past week and half. Mike sighs a little and tries to focus more on the moment versus the unknown future. Like, the fact that the smell of his favorite breakfast food is thick in the air and his stomach grumbles happily at the thought of being filled. And when he turns the corner, he can see the rest of the family right where they should be.

Holly is already in her chair, legs happily kicking the air with a paper happy birthday cone topping her blond curls. Nancy looks less enthused but is at least awake and _home. _She’s just sipping on her coffee and looking like she wished she was still under her blankets, dreaming. She sees him coming and gives him a smile though, getting up to pull him into a tight hug.

“Happy Birthday Mike…” She whispers into his hair and it’s really only half faked, the squirmy moves that breaks him free from her hold and the wrinkled nose expressing how gross and embarrassing it is to be so harassed by his biological cousin. But sister really. Even if it’s not by blood. He breaks the façade by smiling back at her and shoving her towards Richie who is not that far behind. He gets the same treatment much to his bemused shock and really, it’s good for Richie.

Especially as Aunt Karen is in line to do it next. Mike makes a face at seeing that she’s wielding a camera though and groans.

“Now Michael…” She starts and his scowl deepens.

“What’s up Aunt K?” Richie asks before glancing at Mike’s face. “Yowza! What’s gone up your…” He gets cut off with a well-placed…

“Picture time! Picture time!” Aunt Karen nearly sings it into their faces and herds them away from the table and from their Uncle who is definitely giving them a pointed look about the use of language that had been about to be unleashed.

“But… food.” Mike tries. “It’ll get cold. We can take the stupid old pictures any time.”

“Nope, nope. Not negotiable. It’ll only take a minute…” She half wheedles, half commands and Mike sighs, shoulders slouching in defeat. He should have fucking known. He really should have.

“Really Aunt K? You want us in our pjs for this? Bedhead and all?” Richie slouches next to him, lazily draping an arm around Mike’s shoulders. Aunt Karen seemingly ignores the question but really, it’s only because she’s motioning to Nancy to come and help her. And when she’s certain she’s got an ally (_fucking traitor, he is so going to pour syrup on her eggs_), Aunt Karen turns around, comb in hand and attacks them with it. Mike knew this particular move but had not taken into account how Richie’s lack of experience in this would hinder him from evading the move.

The sigh that erupts from him may be overly dramatic (_no one will ever hear that coming from him, EVER_) although the noises that Richie are making aren’t any less dramatic- they’re just slightly more amusing if Nancy’s grin is any indicator. Mike chances a glance in Aunt Karen’s direction before flipping Nancy off. She flips him back before abruptly straightening up and looking angelic. It makes him straighten up slightly before remembering that he doesn’t _want_ the stupid picture to be taken in the first place.

“Holy hell Aunt K! You don’t attack a man’s hair!” Richie gripes, hands ruffling the combed hair back up and making a mess of whatever Aunt Karen had been able to achieve just seconds before. “And definitely not without some sort of warning! Jesus woman,” Richie makes an oof at being elbowed then that shuts him up. Which is good timing as their Aunt looks slightly affronted at being called a _woman_ and in that tone.

“Richie!”

“Sorry Aunt K…” He mutters while giving Mike a hard poke in the side. Mike makes a face and rubs at the spot and the two of them behave long enough for about a _million_ pictures of them to be taken. And for the food to probably be chilled which makes Mike glower by the end of the photo session. Not that he wasn’t glowering before but still…

“I think I got some good ones,” Aunt Karen makes a little noise of happiness, flapping the last photo out to dry before glancing at it and smiling.

“Are we done now?” Mike’s question gets answered with a hand motion and Mike scampers from his position as quickly as he can to get to the table in case she finds something wrong with the pictures and changes her mind. Richie follows more slowly but he slumps into the chair next to Mike’s and looks at the options that are set in front of him with obvious interest. He’s quick to pile his plate with goodies and for a moment, the only noise around the table is the sound of chewing and Holly’s cheerful babble.

The time for presents is announced when everyone’s plates are emptied and Aunt Karen is halfway through cleaning the kitchen table with Nancy’s helping hands. Holly gives an excited cry and you’d think it was her birthday with the way she lights up and does a happy dance where she is. Mike smiles at her excitement and ruffles her hair, deciding right then and there that if he got anything wrapped, he’s gonna let her open it for him.

He knows at the very least that the present they got Richie isn’t wrapped and has already made its way down the basement where it’s meant to stay. It’s weird being more excited about someone else’s present and seeing their reaction than to be excited about his but it’s how he feels in this very moment.

He sneaks a glance at Richie and sees his twin take Holly’s excited yells with a little startled and awkward chuckle. “Whose birthday is it again?” Mike’s smile widens.

“Just wait, she’s excited cause she helped pick your gift out.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah…”

Tbc…

A/N – Hello again, I promised this chappie sooooo long ago. I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to post it. I got stuck writing just the middle part of this chapter. I couldn’t write one scene and it kept me from connecting it to the next scene. So, I decided to say fuck it and end the chapter here and the birthday story will continue in another chapter. Also this may or may not fully make sense with the Long Lost Child timeline date wise but I thought it'd be cute to see the Wheelers and the Party celebrate the boys' birthdays before everything goes to hell. Enjoy!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Birthday chappie part II

Chapter: Happy Birthday! (Aka You’re now 14!) Part II

_Missing Chappie from Part I _

Several hours later, breakfast long ago finished and digested, finds Richie and the Party down in the basement. He’s more than content. He’s happy and full of other emotions that he thinks is still shock and overwhelm that he’d received more than just a birthday mention from his new family. It all feels a bit like a dream. And so, his mind wanders away from the shock of what the morning had brought and instead focuses on the here and now.

“When were all of you fuckers’ born anyway?” Richie asks, after he’s successfully caught, chewed and swallowed the popcorn that Red had thrown his way. Dusty is frowning at the question and it’s clear he’s debating whether the question was stated in a grammatically correct way. Such a N.E.R.D!

Richie pegs a popcorn his way and it bounces off the boy’s frown leading Richie to make a whoop noise that is purely self-congratulating. The face that Dusty makes is worth the scowl that Richie gets from Mikey. Still, he makes sure to scoop the fallen popcorn off the floor before he can get lectured and tosses it into the trash can that’s nearby.

Stalker intervenes by smoothly offering everyone’s birthdates and Richie is content in the knowledge that he hasn’t missed any of them, effectively making him and Mikey the oldest in the group. Until Doe Eye’s birthday is revealed. Richie stops and looks at Doe Eyes.

“Wait… what? You’re older than me!?” Doe Eyes blinks, cheeks flushing slightly.

“What, you couldn’t tell that Will the Wise was older than you?” Dusty hoots his amusement. “He’s the most mature of us all! And a total Pisces…”

“You don’t even believe in that crap.” Stalker mutters, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. The fact that Dusty knows about Astrology despite apparently not believing in it, is something for Richie to tackle at a later date. As it is, Dusty is already bantering back with Stalker about how yes, despite thinking Astrology is complete _bull shit_, even _he_ had to admit that Will was _the_ ultimate Pisces.

“Huh… that’s hot.”

“Excuse me… what?!” Dusty exclaims, nearly stuttering in surprise. “What is? Will being a Pisces or that he’s older than you?” Red is laughing in the background while Mikey can be seen rolling his eyes towards the ceiling. Stalker just looks a bit caught while Doe Eyes goes bright red.

Richie smirks in response, knowing that it’ll drive Dusty nuts not knowing which it actually is.

“You are so weird.” Dusty finally mutters. “Mike, your brother is so weird.”

“Why are you telling _me_ this?!” Mikey sounds affronted.

“Yeah, you’re really not one to talk, Dustin.” Stalker adds. “With your years-long crush on Nancy…”

“Wait, what?” Richie sits up. “You like Nancy too? That makes the total of guys that are into her that _I_ know of up to at least four. Does everyone in this town have a thing for our cuz, Mikey? What the hell is up with that?”

“Don’t ask me,” Mikey mutters with a shrug. “It’s gross.” His disgusted and slightly confused expression makes both Red and Doe Eyes laugh at Mikey.

“Hey now, I like her _not_ because she’s older but because she’s smart and pretty and nice and…” Dusty tries to explain and Richie shakes his head, deciding that the loss of another popcorn is worth it if it shuts up Dusty’s monologue on Nancy’s winning attributes.

“Shut up Shirley Temple before you give Mikey a coronary.” Richie adds in a playful warning. Dusty’s expression at the new nickname makes Richie laugh just a little. He thinks it may make it worth continuing to use Shirley Temple as the curly haired boy huffs and looks pained towards the rest of the gang. He’s clearly asking for help and Red is laughing too hard to give it to him. Mikey’s still red in the face and NOT in the mood to help his friend out either after the Nancy soliloquy that Dusty had just spouted. Doe Eyes, however, comes to his aid quickly, beating Stalker who’d looked torn between stepping in and staying the fuck out of this, his loyalty to both his friends clearly warring with one another in this instance.

“Maybe it’s time for presents?” Doe Eyes offers as the perfect distraction.

“Ooh yeah,” Red exclaims excitedly while she brushes her eyes free of tears of mirth.

“What?! It’s too early for presents.” Dusty mutters. “It should be after cake.”

“Dude,” Stalker sighs. “Why…” He shakes his head. “You’re digging your own grave, man and then biting the hand that’s trying to get you out of it.”

“What?!” Dusty squawks but Richie thinks Stalker’s right on and just wonders how it’ll all play out.

Doe Eyes and Red though are ignoring the two of them and instead taking charge, clearly not caring about the supposed birthday protocol that Dusty feels is _highly_ important. Richie feels whatever teasing retort that had been on his lips fade from his brain as he watches the two of them looking excited. It tugs at something under his rib cage that’s as fragile as the fluttering beat of butterfly wings.

The Losers… Richie shakes his head, forcing himself NOT to fucking go there and bring his giddy mood down with nostalgia. His hands instead go to forcing his curls out of his face and forehead briefly. They fall back and in the way just as quickly but he sorta likes it that way anyway. The unruly look.

He suddenly feels awkward and can’t help glancing at Mikey for help. What sort of help he needs or is asking for, he’s not quite sure and Mikey’s current fond and happy expression isn’t exactly helping.

Although…

Richie finds himself moving so he can sit next to his twin who merely shifts wordlessly to accommodate him getting into his personal space once more.

“You’re gonna love this…” Red states. She’s pulling something out of her backpack while Doe Eyes is pulling two large manila colored envelopes to his chest. “Oy, dorks! You joining us, or what?” She calls out to Dusty and Stalker who snap to attention and drop their squabbling over the birthday protocol. It pulls a little grin out of him despite awkwardness tightening his chest and throat. Dusty looks ruffled like a kitten, but the frown on his face feels more like it’s for show more than anything as it disappears quickly as he tugs a plastic bag to him. He even leans forward as Red calls dibs on going first, looking more excited than Richie expected him to be. Stalker, however, shakes his head.

“Uh huh…We talked about this remember? You go last cause none of us can beat your gift.” Red glares at her boyfriend and wrinkles her nose at him.

“Way to keep talking it up, Stalker.” She mutters and he simply gives her a pointed look. “Fine, who then is gonna start us off?”

Richie watches bemused as they actually have a rock-paper-scissors battle over this between Stalker, Doe Eyes and Dusty. It’s also more than a little hilarious to him that Dusty ends up winning since he’d been bitching about this happening too early in the day.

The gift of picked out candies specifically suited for their tastes along with books (fantasy for Richie and nerdy a/v textbook looking _thing_ for Mikey) is oddly sweet and so very Dusty. Stalker gets them their very own VHS copy of the Karate Kid and that gets them all distracted in reliving some of the best moments. Such as the chopsticks scene and the more epic fight scenes. Red brings them back to order after much laughter at how uncoordinated they all are, especially when Richie’s _high_ kick leaves him on his back and winded.

Doe Eyes helps Richie get back up and he looks slightly nervous now that it’s his turn. As if he’s not sure how Richie’s gonna react to his particular gift. Richie doesn’t really get _why_ cause honestly, all of this is already too much. A pat on the back, a cheerful happy birthday sent his way, would have already made his freaking day.

Mikey looks curious, eyes catching Will’s as he carefully opens his larger envelope. Richie can’t help but glance as a piece of paper slides out and reveals what looks to be pencil portrait of the two of them. It’s shaded and…

Dusty pokes him then, silently reminding him that he has his very own envelope to open. So, he does, although, he feels nervous now too. He gets his own drawing. It’s a sketch of all of them. The Party members with Richie included in the group and he feels as Mikey leans into him to take a peek.

“You’re so good, Will.” Dusty says with a lot of affection and totally ruffles the smaller boy’s hair. “How long did it take you this time?” Doe Eyes makes a noise of embarrassment, eyes shy as he catches Richie looking at him with disbelief.

“…thank you…” Mikey says for the both of them, smile full and warm while Richie works on trying to swallow again. He keeps glancing down at the picture and back at Doe Eyes.

He’s not quite sure any_thing_ could quite top this. And if something does then dear god, he’s gonna be a fucking blubbery sort of mess. Shit, this group, they… they were too much.

His twin gives him his picture to hold briefly as he goes to pull up a binder that’s apparently full of Doe Eyes’s drawings that Mikey has accumulated over the course of their friendship (_and fuck no, Richie was NOT jealous of this. That would just be fucking weird.)_. It’s cute though how Doe Eyes blushes brighter than ever at seeing that, especially when Richie and Red both demand to flip through the binder and see them all.

“Mike…” Doe Eyes kind of whines but Mikey simply smiles, carefully adding the newest picture to be protected there. He also lets Richie and Red get their way because after all, Doe Eyes’ pictures are amazing. Even the ones from when they were younger. Well, those are more hilarious and cute than amazing perhaps. But still. They’re clearly treasures. Mikey knows this and treats them as such.

And Richie needs to frame his. He doesn’t have a place to put his yet but he carefully holds on to his anyway. Not wanting his to get lost in all of the ones that Mikey already owns.

Red sighs as they get to the end of the binder. “I have no idea why you made me go last. My gift is NOT going to top that.” She gives Stalker a look and his eyes widen with some confusion. It’s clear that maybe due to being used to getting a drawing as a birthday gift, he no longer sees how inherently cool and meaningful they are. But she gets it.

But again, Red is by far the coolest of the bunch in this rag tag of a group, Doe Eyes rivaling for that position in Richie’s mind depending on the day and his mood. Still, she gives Richie a smaller envelope and he doesn’t waste any time to rip it open, although he feels… vulnerable. He’s not sure he can stand another so well chosen gift, showing that despite the relative short amount of time he’s been with them, that they know him. They accept him. And more than that, they like him. He’s one of them, now.

Inside the ripped envelope is a handmade coupon granting him skateboarding lessons which has him laughing.

“Oh Red, this _is_ awesome.”

“Tubular even. She doesn’t even let _me_ touch it!” Stalker exclaims. He doesn’t see what coupon she made for Mikey but has an idea or two that it does NOT include the same kind of lessons.

They spend the rest of the afternoon outside, the group watching Richie as Red gives him lessons (_and him falling on his ass more often than not_) before they get called inside to eat cake. It sucks when Red has to go home, but neither Aunt Karen nor Red’s mom think it’s wise to let her sleepover with a bunch of boys. It’s a bit asinine but it is what it is.

The rest of the gang shuffles back to the basement and their spirits don’t stay dampened for long as they take turns playing with the used drum set that has joined the many items already stuffed in the basement. All of it Mikey’s except now for the drum set that’s Richie’s courtesy of the Wheeler family. When it gets late and they get scolded that they need to sleep, they put on the Karate Kid to play in the background. And one by one, they fall asleep, bellies full of cake and candy and so much more.

…

Mike isn’t surprised when he finds himself waking up, alerted by the way that Richie is moving in his sleeping bag next to him. Neither of them had taken their sleep meds and Mike winces as he tries to move quickly to wake Richie before whatever nightmare his twin’s brain concocted this time causes _everyone _to wake up. He knows that Richie would hate that and…

He grips his twin’s shoulder, giving it a little shake just as Richie makes a hissed noise of, “no… please…” and “don’t!” Mike tries to reassure him softly that it’s just a dream as he continues to try to get him to wake up but it still takes a minute or so before Richie does actually snap awake, large eyes taking in the room around him and Mike in a way that clearly shows he’s disoriented. Mike doesn’t really give him the time to orient himself, simply takes both of Richie’s hands in his before pulling him up and into a hard hug.

“It’s okay…” He can feel the way Richie’s heart is hammering and knows that the simple reassurance isn’t going to be enough. He walks them to the bathroom and shuts the door just in time when Richie sorta collapses, muttering about how he’s shit, absolute and complete shit and he doesn’t deserve _any_ of this and fuck, fuck, fuck…

And Mike simply sits with him, waiting for the storm to pass.

On the other side of the door, Lucas and Will have their eyes open and both are holding their breath. Lucas wishes that he hadn’t woken up while Will bites the inside of his cheek hard until his mouth fills with blood. They don’t know that the other is awake and so they stay isolated and alone as they try hard not to overhear the muffled sounds coming from the closed bathroom.

Tbc... 

A/N - Apparently, even when I'm trying to write light and fluffy chapters, angst manages to weave its ugly head in there. Sweatdrops. Ah well, I tried... Enjoy everyone!


	4. Happy Birthday! (Aka You’re now 14!) and it’s Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last bit about the 14th birthday celebration for the twins, specifically its aftermath. Warning, it starts off cute but *wrinkles nose* angst sneaks in at the end. You've been warned!

Chapter: Happy Birthday! (Aka You’re now 14!) and it’s Aftermath

_Missing Chappie from Part I and Part II, weirdly enough._

It’s a couple days after the twin’s birthday that Richie finds a way to finally (_fucking finally_) snag Doe Eyes on his own. He’s nervous and hesitant in a way that he normally isn’t and it’s showing in the way that his eyes keep looking elsewhere and his entire body seems amped up with an energy that is contagious. Doe Eyes’ already wide eyes look at him in question, worry lining his face and Richie finds himself pushing the hastily (_and badly_) wrapped present in the smaller boy’s hands like it’s on fire the second he’s able to get his locker open.

It’s newspaper he used to wrap the present cause like hell he was gonna give ANY ONE ammunition to tease him with. Even if that said someone was just his twin. And Nancy. Or God forbid, Aunt Karen. (_He can imagine her camera ready, snapping a couple pictures to forever keep in memory, proof that Richie fucking Tozier has a heart. No fucking thank you.)_

“Richie?” Doe Eyes looks even more bewildered at having something shoved into his hands so unceremoniously. Especially after Richie had called to him asking for his help to do… Richie’s mind has no actual idea what sort of excuse he’d come up with to get the smaller boy to follow him to his locker versus going to recess outside with the rest of the gang. He has a small idea that Mikey hadn’t found it entirely convincing if the sharp curious look his twin gave him was any indication, but he also hadn’t stopped the two of them so… whatever. He’d deal with his twin later. (_Through subterfuge and really, being one gigantic pain in the ass so that Mikey baby no longer even remembers what he was curious about in the first place!)_

“Just… something. I mean… I missed your birthday. That’s not really fair, especially when you gave me something so fucking cool, so… here’s something. Small, kinda crappy. But… Happy belated birthday?” (_Fucking shoot his mouth. Seriously! Could he sound any more…_).

“Oh!” Does Eyes blinks and looks back down at his hands. “You didn’t need to.”

“I know that! I wanted to…” He says lamely, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “You’re a cool dude, cutie pie.” The shy smile that tugs at Doe Eyes lips makes him feel warm inside.

“Is it okay if I open it now?” He asks and Richie nods, the words, ‘sure’ and ‘if you want’, tumbling out of his mouth in a new speed record he didn’t even know his tongue could handle. How Doe Eyes makes sense of it is beyond him, but he must have as he carefully undoes the wrapping, ignoring the verbal poke from Richie that it’s just crappy newspaper and he could in fact, bloody rip it. God knows Richie had just in trying to wrap it in the first place. If the pace gets any fucking slower, Richie is gonna explode anyway from sheer… he doesn’t even fucking know at this point.

Doe Eyes smile gets bigger as he finally reveals the drawing pad.

“Thank you, Richie.” 

He winces at the thanks, feeling heat hit his cheeks and he ducks his head as his hand comes to wave at the air, as if he could physically erase them from existence.

“It’s nothing really. It’s what they had at Melvald’s and I don’t know shit about art, so I hope it’s okay and, I mean, it’s better than what I was originally planning anyway. Which is just to promise that I’ll be there for your next birthday. Cause I mean, who gives a flying fuck…” (_And he’s fucking rambling AGAIN_!). Doe Eyes simply listens, not commenting until Richie has to finally stop to get a breath in before he actually passes out.

“It’s perfect actually. I was about to run out of paper.” He says quietly, still smiling. “But I’m keeping you to that promise, Richie, cause I do.” Doe Eyes gives him what could be the equivalent of a hug. “Give a flying fuck.” It’s more like a full body lean as the smaller of the two keeps his arms around the sketch book, hugging it to his chest. Like it’s precious or something.

All of it makes Richie stand straight as he feels the weight of Doe Eyes leaning against him and he blinks, Doe Eyes’ words not at all reaching his little overwhelmed brain. Richie finds himself just saying, “oh” in response. He’s not quite sure what to do now and his body has never felt more awkward.

Doe Eye saves him by using his entire body to nudge him forward.

“Come on, the rest of them are gonna start to wonder. And worry. And then they’ll never stop asking.” He says with a sigh. And Richie agrees with that sigh. He really doesn’t want to answer their questions when he’s not quite sure what the hell all of this means anyway. Still, he smiles the rest of the day in a way that apparently creeps the hell out of Dusty (_even better_) and confuses Mikey, who keeps glancing between him and Doe Eyes as if the answer could be found there.

…

Sometime in March,1986. Day 298.

Will finds it hard to be in a celebrating sort of mood. The fact that he’s turning 15 today means very little to him. Still, for his mother and his brother’s sake, he tries to smile. He knows how much it means to them to still be able to celebrate his birthday. And he gets it.

It just… it just hurts. Because he knows it’s not _right_. There’s two giant holes missing in his life and nothing can make that right. Nothing can fix it.

The smile on his face is stiff and heavy. He doesn’t balk however when his brother ruffles his hair and reminds him to make a wish before blowing out the candles. He knows the wish he’s gonna make.

It comes so easily and quickly to him and he has to blink rapidly to keep the tears at bay. Hopefully the candles will be the cheap kind from Melvand’s (_what else could they be, knowing his family?_) and they’ll cause a lot of smoke that he can use as an excuse to explain away the tears. He quickly blows all fifteen out in one go and smiles again as his mom makes a big deal that his wish will come true, as she attempts to fan the smoke away. Jonathan snaps another picture, eyes kind but sad. Like he knows Will’s smile is forced and for show.

It’s just going to be a family affair this year. He said no to a party with friends. Their absence would stand out too much and he wouldn’t be able to keep the mask up.

But God, he hopes his mother’s right. He really hopes he gets his wish.

Richie had promised after all. That he’d be here to celebrate his birthday… and maybe this year’s was too much to hope for, but next year? He could hope, right?

Tbc...


	5. The Pianist and the Ballerina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A snapshot in time captured in a dusty family home video that Richie gets to watch during "sick day" from school...

Chapter: The Pianist and the Ballerina

_Missing chappie from during Part I, a little after the boys’ birthday_

Richie wakes up, body still feeling heavy and useless but at least once he’s able to pry his eyes open, they stay open this time. He rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling without truly focusing on one particular shadow. It’s all a blurry mess anyway. It’s just something to do as he tries to wait for the medication to continue making it’s way out of him. He knows without needing to look, that he’s slept through the alarm again and that Mikey’s probably long gone to school. It’s more than a little frustrating and Richie rubs at his face, trying to wipe away the scowl and the last of the sleepiness from his features. He needs to change his thinking, man.

He should be happy to have a free pass from school!

It’s just weird not to have Mikey by his side to enjoy it. The scowl threatens to come back and so Richie groans, blindly searching for his glasses on the bedside table before erupting out of the cocoon he’d created with his blankets. It’s most definitely time to get up and definitely time to make sure he’s surrounded by others versus left alone to his thoughts.

As Richie makes his way down the stairs, he can hear Aunt Karen and the munchkin talking to one another. He peers around the corner, ruefully running a hand in his wild bedhead and wondering belatedly if he should just quickly turn back and make himself presentable before joining them.

The two have got super good hearing though and they turn nearly as one to face him. There’s a squeal and a tackle to the legs from the midget while Aunt Karen gives him a more dignified and passive greeting that takes the shape of a smile and a wave.

“Good morning Richie, ready for breakfast?” His stomach answers the question for him, grumbling so loudly that Holly giggles, hand coming to pat at it gently.

…

He’s not quite sure how they got onto the topic but he can’t hide that he’s sort of fascinated to hear the stories of Nancy and Mikey as kids. Richie notices that Holly’s also enjoying the stories, eyes wide and focused. It’s really only her legs swinging wildly under the table that is the only movement she makes as she listens.

“…they used to make shows for us all the time. Michael playing the piano while Nancy danced to the music.” Aunt Karen trails off, bending down to take Richie’s now empty plate from him. The gesture is automatic and it still baffles him. This having a mother figure actually mothering him and picking up after him.

“What made them stop?” He asks, still watching Aunt Karen as she carefully rinses the plate off before placing it in the dishwasher. The question is a fair one, ‘cause as far as he knows, Mikey and Nancy have NOT put on any sort of show since he’s been here. And he has a feeling that it’s been maybe years since they have. Maybe even before Holly arrived if her huge eyes are any indication to the shared surprise he feels.

“Oh, hormones mainly. Nancy suddenly was too cool and busy to hang out with Michael and well…that led to Michael being too cool to play the piano.” Aunt Karen shrugs, smile a little sad. “I have the home videos of some of the shows if you’re interested…” She offers after a pause and seems surprised when Richie nods so quickly he actually gives himself a crick in the neck. It makes her laugh at his enthusiasm and she makes him promise not to tease Mikey afterwards because they all know who would get the death glares and it’s not going to be Richie. He promises with crossed fingers behind his back and a wink to Holly who giggles and raises her arms in a silent plea to be taken out of her high chair. Richie obliges so Aunt Karen can focus on the real task at hand. Those home videos.

It’s strange but soothing to end up all three of them curled up on the sofa, each with their own blanket wrapped around their shoulders not because it’s cold but for sheer comfort. The television screen is bright, and the quality of the home video isn’t the best but the classical music that’s being played with only a note that’s off key here and there and a stumbled pause is clear in sound. The image sometimes moves as if whoever is holding the camera suddenly had an itch to scratch or was startled but a tiny Nancy is always center stage of the carpeted living room. She’s as graceful as any tiny kid can be as she twirls around, clearly making up the choreography up as she goes. Sometimes it matches the music, sometimes it’s like she’s listening to an entirely different song than what Mikey is playing. It doesn’t really matter though. It’s pretty (_pretty fucking funny and adorable_) all the same. And it’s clear that she’s enjoying herself.

When Mikey makes a mistake, she merely throws him the kid version of what would become the patented Wheeler bitch face and it makes Richie smile just a little even though what he feels inside is sad and hollow. The camera moves, Aunt Karen’s voice whispering at both Mikey and Nancy to continue. Ted, also off camera, mutters something about how _the show must go on_. And Richie has to roll his eyes at hearing the man’s voice. He really is a walking hulk of a cliché whenever he does bother to speak.

Mikey is suddenly the one that the camera is focusing on. His eyes look huge in the pale round face, cheeks too big and Richie has a small inane thought that _man,_ they did kinda look like frogs as kids. Not so much now that adolescence has been melting the baby fat from their faces but then… woooh boy. He can see it. 

The kid version of Mikey looks caught. A little scared even but at Aunt Karen’s gentle urgings, he wrinkles his nose before sighing and placing his fingers back down on the keys. He starts to play again, all focused attention and energy.

The scene on the television screen ends abruptly, the tape clearly done and needing to be rewound. Richie’s left contemplating that while Mikey was playing music and putting on shows, he’d… he’d been what?

Making jokes, being loud, trying to catch someone’s attention to simply have proof that he did in fact exist and did in fact matter.

He blinks when Holly’s small body starts squirming besides him and he realizes belatedly that she’s been talking to him. He has no idea what she wants but knows quickly and undeniably, that he’ll go all in.

Anything to stop him thinking.

Anything to stop being alone.

And will he tease his twin mercilessly about this home video, about piano concerts, about baby cheeks, and little frog looks? Sure. Fucking absolutely. Richie Trashmouth Tozier will be at his fucking finest, fuckers. But it’ll hurt a bit too. Most likely. Maybe. Whatever.

Every art form has its price…

Tbc...

A/N - Just a little something as I continue to work on the actual story... Hope all of you are well!!! <3


	6. Welcome to Castle Byers, Richie!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gift for Zilo88 who inspired the chapter. Takes place after The Other Side concludes, early Fall. The Party members decide to meet in Castle Byers, a first for Richie. And maybe even Max.

Chapter: Welcome to Castle Byers, Richie! (Gift for Zilo88 who inspired the chappie)

_Missing chappie from after Part II concludes_

Richie blinks at the sight before him. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting (_no, that’s a damned lie. He knew _exactly _what he’d been expecting and this isn’t fucking anywhere near what he’d been expecting_)… and he finds himself slowing down just a smidgeon. It causes him to tug on Doe Eyes’ hand inadvertently and he sees the shorter teen throw a look behind him, wide eyes expressing the concern loudly and clearly.

“Everything okay?” He still asks and Richie licks his lips, wondering how to explain the surprise at seeing Castle Byers in person. He wonders vaguely again how in all hells Doe Eyes survived the Upside Down and the demogorgon at the age of twelve and then the Mind Flayer at thirteen years old if this had been his main hiding space.

In the epic retelling of Doe Eye’s and Ellie Belle’s story, Richie had been left alone with his imagination to fill in certain details. Like the Quarry wall (_definitely fucking taller than he’d imagined it_) and the monsters (_until he’d had the most unfortunate experience of meeting them in person. He hoped never to ever have to deal with that shit again. And yeah call him a fucking coward but he viewed it more as having a really healthy survival instinct thank you very fucking much. And he’s had more than his fair share of monsters. He’s truly had his fill. Really. For however many fucking life times he’ll be granted, if you believe in reincarnation and all that crap. Anyway, he’s digressing_). And well, he’d also imagined Castle Byers too.

He’d imagined an underground fort, wooden panels providing a security while also a vague claustrophobic feeling after imagining (_remembering_) Eds inspecting the handiwork and finding it faulty, pointing out every possible security risk under the sun. (_Really hadn’t helped when a wooden panel had dropped from the ceiling just following the verbal diatribe). _He’d imagined all sorts of nooks and crannies and spider webs. Stashes of comic books and tins filled with enough shower caps for the whole Party – even those who would refuse to wear the dorky-pussy looking things cause honestly, who cared about a little fucking dirt and spiders dropping on your head unannounced. Like seriously? There were more serious fish to fry in this world. (_Like getting to the hammock first._)

But what he’s standing in front of is barely big enough to hold two or three of them comfortably. He knows that they’ve grown – some more than others – but still. He has the odd sensation that he’s going to have to weirdly contort himself to not accidentally kick out some of the branches that make up the walls. It’s gonna look fucking weird. But better that than mistakenly bringing down the…_fort_ that had kept Doe Eyes safe so many years ago.

He thinks.

“You … hid… _here?_” He asks, still blinking at the sight in front of him and not seeing it change any. It’s still plain as day, not hidden at all, and the old dirty sheet that blocks the entrance billows in a sudden gust of wind. He can imagine, if objects could talk, which they can’t and thank the fuck, that the motion is the equivalent of a middle finger at his incredulous tone.

Doe Eyes if anything looks more confused than concerned. Their hands drop away from one another naturally. It’s not like Doe Eyes is still showing him the way. They’re fucking here. Still, he misses the warmth immediately and he knows it would bother him more if he wasn’t still stuck in contemplating the so called Castle and rewriting the way he’d imagined Doe Eye’s story while in the Upside Down. “Uhm…” Doe Eyes’ eyebrows furrow together as he contemplates less Richie’s question and more the tone in which it’s being asked. “Yes?”

“How…? Like… fucking how?” And with that asked, Richie takes the last few steps and pokes his head in through the blanket to see if he’s somehow missing something from looking at the place from the outside only. Cause from the outside, holy shit. He’s surprised it’s still standing. It reminds him vaguely of the three little pigs tale. All you need is one big bad wolf to blow the whole mess down.

But the wolf had come. And he’d puffed and puffed and Doe Eyes was still here. Same with his Castle.

Richie has to blink a bit as his vision adapts to the change in light. It’s not _that _much darker in here but just enough to be a pain. It does look larger inside. The walls are still just random pieces of wood – some sturdier and thicker looking than others – stuck together but the ground consists of blankets upon blankets. And it’s far homier than he expects it to be.

It _feels_ like Doe Eyes.

And that doesn’t quite make sense and yet it does too. It’s in the little details. The photographs of the Party strewn about, the many sketching supplies spread out and over on the cozy looking nest, and the multitude of finished drawings pinned on the rickety looking walls and the ones that aren’t quite completed scattered around on the ground. Not forgotten but pushed aside for now. It’s the microscope that’s not at all dusty despite it being housed in the middle of the woods because of course it’s beloved and still used. Because Doe Eyes balances both art and science. Intuition and facts.

It’s comforting. Accepting. Warm.

“You know…” Doe Eyes starts, tone still mildly confused but a whole heck of a lot amused and exasperated at the same time. “You’re only allowed in with a password.”

Richie finds himself snorting and pulling his head out from the sheet. He can feel the way it drags his growing curls right into his face, some of them catching in his glasses. “Password? Really, sweetheart? You’re gonna invite me here and then not let me in? What the fuck is that about? Rude. Just rude cutie pie. You’re too cute to be rude.” Not like the sheet would keep him from simply barging in without the password. But that seems too obvious to point out.

Doe Eyes simply rolls his eyes and nudges Richie aside with a shoulder and an elbow. Just hard enough that it’s a warning. A boundary not to cross but its not so hard it hurts. Richie still whines about it and rubs at his chest where the elbow landed. Doe Eyes’ got sharp bones and he’s stronger than he looks. Clearly. Surviving the demogorgon in this place… Richie shakes his head and nearly misses the whispered password being sent his way. He blinks again and Doe Eyes disappears inside the Castle, sheet falling in place behind him.

Huh.

Richie clears his throat before sighing just a bit and saying the password out loud. (_Had the Losers bothered with a password? Maybe. Maybe not. The memories are there but grayed out, losing the peskiest of details that really aren’t that fucking important right? No. Not that important. He’s had so much more on his mind than to remember whether Haystack in his fucking nerdy architectural prowess – really to fucking win over Bevie cause let’s be real about the motivations now – had required a password for his underground haven he’d built them). _Doe Eyes doesn’t let him sit outside too long, the cheerful ‘come in’ welcoming Richie to enter.

He does.

And crawls his way to the opposite corner, making sure to keep his long limbs from knocking something over and taking the whole shit down on top of their heads. The two of them sit in silence for a bit as Richie continues to take in the details. He’s focusing on everything but Doe Eyes who suddenly seems nervous, hands fiddling with the ends of his sleeves that fall close to the end of his finger tips. It’s Fall and it’s getting cold outside and Richie’s willing to bet the shirt is one of Jonathan’s older cast offs.

Doe Eyes is following where Richie looks, as if he too, is suddenly seeing the place for the first time.

“Cutie pie, if I didn’t know you and I was ignoring the fact that the rest of the gang are just minutes behind us…” (_though how they’ll _ALL _fit in here is still beyond his comprehension. They’re gonna have to fucking sit on top of one another!_) “… I’d think this was a ploy to get hot and heavy with me.” He finally ends the sentence, giving Doe Eyes his most flirty and charming smirk before spreading out more on the make shift bed. It’s a tight squeeze and he can’t fully straighten out his long legs, but he is laying down more than he is sitting up.

Doe Eyes makes a noise that’s somewhere between a polite cough and an embarrassed choke. It makes Richie look over at him and wink at him. Which cues more blushing but no verbal response. Just a roll of his hazel-brown eyes and a general gentle kick that’s more of a shove from his socked toes.

If they had more space, Richie would have grabbed a hold of that foot and tickled it mercilessly. But there’s not more space and there’s something…special about Castle Byers. It’s not just that it was Doe Eyes’ safe space during the whole Upside Down saga. There’s more to it. He can tell. There’s a history here. And it needs to be respected. As much as Richie can show it respect. After all, he couldn’t _entirely_ turn off his mouth. He’d be Mikey if he did and the world didn’t fucking need TWO Mikey’s. One overly stuffy responsible twin was quite enough, thanks much.

So yes, he stuffs down the impulse to pull Doe Eyes’ foot and tickle him. He still does swipe at it and just tug at it gently so that Doe Eyes’ is pulled towards him vs. staying stuck in the corner near the pillows. He looks way too small, way to curled in on himself there. And Richie’s not in the headspace to deal with the vulnerability head on. Not entirely.

His grin grows as he hears Doe Eyes’ yelp of surprise at the move. He can feel the way the shorter teen is one big ball of tension, probably expecting more than Richie just tugging his foot onto his chest and resting it there, hand coming to gently tap a nameless rhythm.

“Seriously?! You’re impossible…” Doe Eyes mutters, half under his breath but he doesn’t fight Richie for his foot back and after some squirming around to get in a more comfortable position, Richie’s chest suddenly finds himself the home for two feet.

The companionable silence doesn’t last too long. Surprisingly though, it’s Doe Eyes who breaks it. Maybe it’s because Richie had been busy looking over the drawings and photographs surrounding him. They’re snapshots in time and Richie is soaking the information in, one at a time. It’s like puzzle pieces, filling gaps of knowledge or little details here and there about the Party before everything went to hell in Hawkins and maybe just a bit after it did too.

“I know …it may not look like much but…” The words trail off and Richie’s pulled away from looking at the picture of the Party members, Ellie Belle and Red missing, dressed in ghostbusters outfits. Must have been Halloween a handful years ago judging by the pre-teen chubby looking cheeks and the way too excited and innocent smiles on all of their faces. He glances back at Doe Eyes’ face, giving him his full attention instead. “… it’s… even after everything that happened… it’s home.” Doe Eyes finishes lamely, shoulders shrugging. “This is always the place I could turn to when I needed to escape…”

And Richie’s in tune enough that he can read the subtext. Escape from not just monsters from other dimensions but also the very real and sometimes even scarier human monsters. He wonders if the kid’s dad is among the numerous bullies Doe Eyes’ has had to deal with and hide from.

He finds himself squeezing the anklebone briefly before resuming the tapping. It’s just a _I hear you_ and a _I understand._ A _I’m here for you_ and _I’m listening_ that’s being said with a simple gesture. He’s getting better at those he thinks and he feels the other teen relaxing further next to him.

“Did you build it by yourself or with the Party?” He asks, pulled to continue the conversation and to not leave Doe Eyes struggling in a vulnerable place all his own. He thinks that he was right in his earlier assessment. Castle Byers is Byers himself. It may look weak and vulnerable from the outside but it’s stronger and withstood so fucking more than expected by anyone and everyone. And it’s warm and homey and sweet and innocent all on the inside.

“…with Jonathan. After my dad left…” Ah. “…but I mean, the Party… well… when it was just Mike and Lucas and Dustin and I… they all added to it. We used to be little enough to have sleepovers in here during the summer.” There’s a wistful tone as Doe Eyes adds, “We haven’t done that in years…”

“Can you imagine trying to do so now?” Richie snorts at the idea of it even as he asks. He knows some of the Party members would be way TOO happy to be in such close quarters.

“It’d definitely be a tight fit.” Doe Eyes concedes with a half sigh.

“For fucking sure…” He mutters. “But you’d enjoy it, huh?” He doesn’t quite need an answer. The answer was in Doe Eyes’ previous wistful tone and the defeated sigh. “What if we continued building on it? Adding to it…so it would fit all of us? You know we can get Dusty to help draw out nerdy ass blueprints. Hell, I can get Haystack to come and lend a hand. He’s a genius at building secret forts. And you know Mikey and Stalker would do whatever you wanted. You’ve got them so wrapped around your little pinkie finger it’s fucking ridiculous and slightly adorable and well, wherever they go, Ellie Belle and Red will follow. And then we could have those summer sleepovers again… all together.”

“Summer sleepovers?!” Dusty’s voice chirps in and interrupts cheerfully. Richie startles at the added voice and glances to the opening of Castle Byers. The sheet hasn’t been disturbed and he can see the shadows of the rest of the Party standing on the other side.

“Dustin, password first.” Richie can hear Mikey hiss. “It just makes it creepy to jump in on a conversation you weren’t a part of.”

“Truth!” Stalker mutters and there’s the sound of palms hitting one another while Dusty grumbles about that being rich, coming from a Telepath. Yet he does say the password and as he does, Doe Eyes pulls his feet from Richie’s chest while he says come in to the rest of the gang. Richie isn’t left contemplating the move and what it means or doesn’t mean exactly because Doe Eyes is suddenly snuggled up, right next to him. He’s sitting up but his hip is bumping against Richie’s head.

There’s cool air that sneaks in with the Party members as they all start to crawl in and claim a space of their own.

“So, summer sleepovers?” Dusty asks again, carefully hugging his knees to his chest as he settles in the corner that Doe Eyes had originally been in.

“Yeah, just telling Richie how we used to… in here.” Dusty whistles, taking his hat off his head and scratching his forehead with his thumb’s knuckle.

“That reminder _really_ puts it into perspective how much we’ve grown.” The curly haired teen mutters. “I mean, with the certain bean poles in the group, we don’t need the reminder but still.” He adds, cheeky grin and fake glare towards Richie and Mikey who give him the middle finger, simultaneously and without prompting in response. That makes Ellie Belle giggle as she takes a hold of Mikey’s hand to bring it back to where it’d been resting around her before. The girl is comfortably cuddled against his brother’s chest, sitting in his lap.

“I used to go camping with my dad all the time.” Red mutters. “I loved it…” Richie tries to half sit up to be able to see all of their faces. They are incredibly cramped in here. And it doesn’t surprise him in the slightest to see that Mikey is actually half in and half out, his body blocking the main entrance to the fort with Stalker on his other side. Red is kneeling next to Stalker near Richie’s feet and her eyes seem huge as they take in the space around her. It leaves him wondering if this is the first time Red’s been here as well.

“Yeah? Where’d you go?” Mikey asks and for a while the entire Party gets lost in talking about different camping and hiking adventures. It’s mainly Red and Dusty that supply them what with Red’s dad loving to complete several day long hikes and Dusty going to summer camps nearly every year but the others chip in here and there with backyard camping stories and it’s clear, despite some misfortunes (_like leaking tents or a random April snow shower or foraging bear getting at the food_) that everyone misses these ‘good old times’.

It makes it easy then for Richie to pipe in with his plan.

And that’s how the Party Fortress (_Castle Byer’s Part II_) comes to be…


	7. What Happens After Storytime Ends?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What did happen after they ended Storytelling time on the rickety old bus? And what was Hopper's reaction at El not coming home that night? The missing chapter providing those details... :P Enjoy!

Chapter: What Happens After Storytime Ends? (Gift for noDownSide who inspired the chappie)

_Missing chappie from Part II_

Princess doesn’t let go of Mikey’s arm the entire walk over. She doesn’t split off and head back with Doe Eyes, grip tightening slightly on his twin instead and his twin merely gives a slight head nod of acknowledgment. Richie takes note of it but doesn’t say anything. He’s actually without words in the moment and his throat is absolutely killing him. It’s too dry and it’s been way too overworked.

He figures he’ll wait for a more opportune time to give his twin the best of his killer wits. Really tease him for this so not stealth mission of sneaking his little girlfriend into their house. So yeah, a part of his brain is already putting some energy into compiling witty banter, a way to break the momentous news to his other friends, the ones who didn’t get Storytime tonight (_Its early morning now. Fuck it was late. Late as in, way too many hours had passed where he could have been sleeping. And all he wants is sleep. Fuuuuuck… sleep. Sleep would feel so good.) _And then it hits him, like _really_ hits him, and he stalls.

“Wait. Is she sleeping with us?” He hisses. Both Mikey and Princess blink at him with an expression, of duh, numbnuts, where else would she sleep? As if they can’t see why the hell that would be awkward. Well, Richie’s about to explain _exactly _why, fuckers. Because it is awkward. Epically awkward. And so NOT hilarious and NOT the making of worthwhile teasing material for him to use, if he’s the sad pathetic third wheel in his _own _fucking room!_ (I mean, come on now. It’s not like any one from the Losers or the Party would ever _buy _the idea of a threesome between Mikey-baby, Princess, and himself or honestly anyONE on this planet getting in between the EPIC soulmates that make up his twin and his girlfriend. And him simply thinking it makes him want to shudder. Princess Ellie Belle still gives him the fucking creeps. No thank you. No way. No how. There is NO interest in him either.)_ Somehow, Princess sleeping in their room with _them_ is WAY different to Richie than Red having a sleep over with the entire gang there.

“Richie…” Mikey starts aloud and then switches to talking in Richie’s head. _It’s late. And we’re tired. We’re just sleeping. _A pause as Mikey surely picks up on some of Richie’s internal rant and tirade on the epic awkwardness that is fast approaching. _Would it really make a difference if we all slept in the basement versus our bedroom?_

Weirdly enough. It does. Also, Richie is singularly grateful that Mikey only caught the tail end of his spiraling thoughts and latched on to the basement as their main sleepover domain versus everything else his brain was (_still is_) forming. He wouldn’t put it quite past Mikey to punch him for the threesome bit. But hey, who knows?

Who the fuck knows…

The three of them change direction quietly and head to the basement and Richie is left contemplating that there’s really no part of his life that isn’t fucking weird these days.

…

El only has strong memories of the basement. They’re mostly fond ones. Like the blanket fort-nest that Mike had made her, the plate of eggos and other food squirreled away to her down there, and the D&D board and pieces to help her explain where Will was. These memories carry a sense of comfort and safety. Of home when she’d never truly known what any of those concepts meant or even ever experienced.

But there’s also the hurt memories. Like Mike’s palpable anger towards her following Will’s fake body being pulled from the water. Worse even are the memories of being in this space after Mike had gone missing. Those memories just squeeze her heart and fill it with grief.

All of them flit through her mind in stark clear flashes and she can’t help but tighten her grip on Mike’s arm and hand as she’s wrapped both of her arms around his uninjured one. He gently squeezes back, brown eyes glancing at her briefly as they make their way further into the room, none of them bothering to turn the light on.

This is Mike’s domain and he knows it by heart. He can lead her through it safely. And apparently, Richie knows it just as well.

El finds that she does indeed have to let Mike go briefly, as he nudges her towards the bathroom with a pair of sweats and a t-shirt to go change into while he and Richie start making some semblance of a fort for them to sleep under. (_Privacy, get it? And she does now, more than she did before…_) It’s going to be larger this time around and from what she can tell, as she gives them a last glance before slipping into the bathroom, it’s a bit of a hodgepodge of blankets and pillows on the ground with towels and pillow cases covering whatever it is that they’re using to make up the “walls”.

It brings a small smile on her face even as it tugs at her heart to see the rickety structure come alive in the darkness.

It would have been simpler to just let it be a mess of blankets and pillows on the ground. And probably safer too. But when she steps back out of the bathroom to see their efforts come to life, she can’t help but have the original good memories of the basement come bubbling back up in full force.

She’s home again.

She takes a step towards them and nearly falls flat on her face because these sweatpants are ridiculously too long. Same with the shirt which despite being a supposedly short sleeve shirt, comes past her elbows…

El snorts a bit as she recovers her balance and grabs bunches of the sweatpants material to pull up and over her feet before trying again. She thinks she’s doing a good enough job being quiet but Richie looks up and snorts at the sight of her.

“…now that’s a princess turned pauper look…”

“Pauper?” El asks, tilting her head to the side. Mike is already half in the fort, but he pulls back to glance at both her and Richie before looking back at her again. It’s too dark to really be able to read his expression but his tone is fond when he finally speaks.

“It means a poor person, El. He’s also playing on the whole fairytale story, the Prince and the Pauper.”

“Oh?” She continues moving forward and then bends so she can crawl in as he holds up one flap of the blanket fortress walls just for her. She has a feeling that the quiet between the three of them is more just that Richie and Mike are talking but that’s okay. She’s home. She’s with him. She can wait. Or maybe, maybe Holly would have this story in one of her many books. Yes. She could look for it tomorrow or another day. Then she’d understand Richie’s reference and why Mike’s clothes on her make her look like a pauper. She plays with the way the word sounds in her head for a bit.

El settles to the far right, nuzzling the pillow with her nose and cheek before giving a little sigh. She is tired but almost to the point of not being able to fall asleep because of it. Still, it feels nice to finally be laying down and the muscles that had been clenched tight slowly but surely relax, leaving only a slight burning sensation behind.

She feels as Mike and Richie make their own way in finally with Mike coming down and laying beside her, Richie one his other side.

“Don’t even…” Mike warns, suddenly speaking aloud and startling her. But he’s not talking to her. It’s to Richie and Richie must understand because he sighs, as if some great treat is being taken away from him.

“You’re no fun.” He mutters but besides that, says nothing more. Still El finds herself turning, wishing briefly that there was more light in the space so that she could see both of their expressions. She moves closer, tilting her body towards Mike until her forehead touches his shoulder. Once there, she closes her eyes and just breathes him in. This is much better than the Void. So much better.

There’s comfort in feeling his warmth seep through the cotton blend of his shirt. There’s comfort in hearing his breath and heartbeat. There’s comfort even in his smell – a mix of sweat and fresh laundry. He must have changed into a clean set when he’d sent her to do the same.

“Once upon a time, in the ancient city of London…” He starts quietly, bandaged hand coming to find hers, fingers trailing together. “Two families, one poor and one rich, became parents to baby boys…”

El has known she’s loved Mike for a very long time now. Has the number of days and minutes etched in her brain, adding to it as another day ends automatically. What she’d never understood until that very moment, is that the love she had for him could still grow. Is growing.

She feels as a smile, faint, tugs at her lips and she leans deeper into him, listening to his deeper voice as he recounts the tale. She feels more of the tension leave. She feels more of the hurt and anger and the fear and confusion and grief, and all the darker emotions leave with the tension. There’s more warmth and love and peace and maybe even hope that fill the space instead and also a heaviness that’s purely physical exhaustion.

Richie’s breathing evens out and slows and the small noises of him restlessly moving eases until it finally stops.

El had been worried she’d been too exhausted to fall asleep just moments before. Now she finds herself fighting sleep, wanting to hold onto each word, each breath Mike takes. She doesn’t want to sleep.

No… she really does not want to…

…

Morning finds the three like a pile of puppies. Richie’s got an arm thrown across Mike’s chest, fingers loosely gripping at his shirt as if it’s his security blanket. Besides that, his body’s all spread out, one foot even kicked out from the rickety structure of their blanket fort. El’s buffeting Mike’s other side. She’d moved less in her sleep than Richie had, but she still had moved; and she was now very much with her head on Mike’s chest, his heartbeat her lullaby, soothing her and deepening her sleep still. She was still holding onto his hand with both of her own, and the cut that was badly wrapped up last night throbs dully at the pressure. He’s going to have to take care of that the second the two wake up and let him go.

Mike’s too hot and he’d awoken with a slight start and panic that he was being held down before realizing that no. He’d just become the pillow of several someones. He’s not really surprised. Nor is he irritated. It’s still not the most comfortable though. 

He stays still where he is, simply blinking up and looking at the different light patterns that are playing out in the various towels, pillowcases, sheets, and shirts he and Richie had used as the sun slowly starts to creep up and into the basement. He listens to the way the house wakes up, small creaks and groans as the structure starts to heat up. There’s an absence of footsteps and the smell of breakfast being cooked and so he knows they still have a bit of time.

At least on this end. On Hopper’s end though? Mike makes a face, not helping the way tension starts to crawl through him once more.

He was going to be in such shit.

Yet the way El wrinkles her nose, hiding her face briefly in his shirt before giving a sleepy sigh… the way it makes him feel to see it, to know she’s safe by his side… Mike can honestly say, he doesn’t give a fuck.

Let the old man bellow. He can take Hopper’s anger on any day.

…

Will is already up and anxiously sketching (_having been shooed out and away from the kitchen by both his brother and mother_) when the phone starts to ring. He knows it’s his own nerves speaking because it’s not possible, but to him, the ringing phone sounds _pissed off_. He feels his shoulders hike up to his ears and thinks, ah. Hopper’s awake.

He hopes his mom won’t hiss at him to pick up and instead will throw in the dishtowel that she’s been using to… he doesn’t actually know what she’s been doing. She’s trying to help Jonathan, that’s probably the only bit that’s clear. And it looks like his hopes are going to be dashed as she does _not_ in fact stop to pick up the phone and instead starts gesticulating at him to do so instead.

“Will!” She hisses, voice a low but pointed whisper. “Get that before our guests get woken up!” Will gives her a pleading look but drops his pencil dutifully and takes the few steps so he can reach the dreaded, angry sounding phone.

“Byer’s residence.” He says, hoping his meek polite tone will win him some bonus points.

“Is El there?” No hello, no greeting of any sort. Just a gruff, barely contained panic induced raged tone asking a direct question. Will wilts.

“No, but she’s okay, really, I swear. She’s with Mike.” There’s a long pause, a curse and then the phone gets hung up abruptly. Will blinks, mouth slightly open, half wanting to say hello? Just in case. It’d be bad to hang up on Hopper when he’s in a rage. But the dial tone ringing in his ear clearly says that that wouldn’t be the case at all.

Slowly, hand trembling, he goes to hang up. The second he does, the phone rings again and he jumps at the sound, cursing before picking up again. There’s even more dread in him then before. He turns his back to his mom so he doesn’t have to see her bewildered and confused expression. So, he doesn’t have to see her mouthing the words of ‘who is that?’ and ‘what is going on?’ and…

“Hello? Byer’s…” He’s cut off before he can finish.

“The Wheelers, do they know?”

“I’m sorry?” What? Is more his actual question.

“Kid, Do. The. Wheelers. Know?”

“That she’s there…? No… We, we met last night… as a group. There’s more that had to be talked about… about what they experienced.” He starts, faltering but words coming out more quickly, pleading their case. And undoubtedly, his own want to have been right there along with El, not leaving the twins’ sides. “She didn’t want to leave them after that. Please don’t be mad. Please…” He asks, hands gripping the receiver tightly despite his own injury. “She’s the only one who truly gets what they’ve been through.”

There’s a deep heavy sigh on the other end that has his shoulders curling inward with tension.

“Kid, I’m gonna need you to be honest with me now. Like real honest…” Will takes a breath in and holds it. “… your little group, you’re not keeping something from us again, are you?”

Will feels his heart start to hammer, mouth dry, and he actually yells when the phone is yanked from his hands.

“This is Joyce Byers, who are you and what the hell do you want?” She half growls, half barks into the receiver and just like that, his mom’s saved the day again. By half scaring the shit out of him but still. Will takes this moment to go run and hide back into his room. His feet take on an entirely new speed when he hears his mom’s confused… “Hopper?”

A/N - I picture Will using his "guests" as a way to dodge his mother for at least another day or two... Smart Hopper. You know he's gonna be investigating this thoroughly. ;) 


	8. Types

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike attempts to tease Richie about having a "type". Boy was he NOT expecting the tables to get turned on him! But then again, Richie is his twin. He should have known better. Don't you think?

Chapter: Types

_Missing chappie from Part II or in between Part II and part III_

“So…” Richie arches an eyebrow at the gleeful little tone residing in his brother’s voice. He sits up, thinking whatever is about to come out of his brother’s mouth is going to be a good one. One that shows, even more than their shared look, that they’ve inherited the same DNA 100%. “You’ve certainly got a type.” Richie blinks. And blinks again.

“Really?” He huffs a sigh and falls back on his bed. “Cause that’s the biggest news today? _I’ve_ got a fucking type?” He snorts and rubs at his eyes under his glasses before smirking at his brother. He’s not sure he’s in a space where he can take the teasing about his past and current crushes. But that’s okay, cause he knows exactly how to turn the tables. Regain the advantage. And so he opens his mouth and says it. “I’d say we share that type, Mikey-baby.”

The (_annoyingly_) superior teasing shit eating grin on Mikey’s face freezes for a moment as Mikey simply looks back at him confused.

“Oh come on, Mikey, I know you’re smarter than this. Need me to spell it out for you?” Richie rolls to his side so that he has an easier time watching his brother’s face. He wants to see it when it clicks. “Brunettes, huge brown-hazel eyes that look right into your soul, petite frames but you know they can kick your ass right back to the curb because they’re actually feisty as all get out, able to keep our egos in check…Ring a bell?” He adds for good measure. “Sound familiar at all, dipshit?” 

“What?” Mikey starts. “What are you getting at..?! Wait…” And there it is. There’s the moment where it clicks and it’s Richie’s turn to smirk.

“Don’t fight it Mikey-baby. It’s all in our genetics after all. You can ask Dusty for all the research on the topic…”

“... what? No! Just no!”

...

Richie will never explain to Doe Eyes or Princess or Eds for that matter why weeks later, Mikey still gets a weirded-out expression on his face when he sees the two or all three of them together. Richie simply cackles and feels pride in that he _totally_ got the upper hand on Mikey that time around. Richie 562, Mikey 547 (_and yes, he totally keeps a mental tally and NO he’s not biased at all!_). Take that bitches! He was not at all losing his touch. Nope, uh-uh, no sir. And damn, did it feel good.

A/N - Super short scene that made me laugh and thought I'd post as I work to finalize the next chapter for "The Other Side". I'm sorry it's been so long since I posted or even responded to comments. There's no excuse beyond life and work has been busy and draining on so many levels. I know I'm not alone in experiencing this and so I hope that you all are taking care of yourselves the way you need to. Just know, I have not forgotten about this story or given up on it. I'm still planning on writing the story till the very end and have several chapters already half written for Part III (99 Red Balloons). Will be posting that update to the "Other Side" soon!


	9. Of Nail Polish and Pencil Sketches

Chapter: Of Nail Polish and Pencil Sketches

_Missing chappie that occurs between Part II and Part III_

Richie is trying his best to sit still. He really is but he can’t help the way one foot taps out to the rhythm of the song blasting from Mikey and his radio. He can’t help but continue glancing sporadically around the room trying to find something to capture his attention and settle the manic energy running through his body that’s been yelling at him to move, move, move!

It’s his fault he knows. Him and his big mouth. But also, a bit of Holly’s fault too. She’s too cute and her big eyes are way too convincing, especially when she’d jutted out her bottom lip in what he supposes was a puppy pout. It’s hella convincing and he’s got a sinking feeling that when she ever gets to the _proper_ age to date, he and Mikey are gonna have to beat boys off of her with more than just a stick. The thought makes him wrinkle his nose.

What the fuckity fuck is happening to him? Living at the Wheelers’ has definitely warped him. He’s gone completely and utterly down the river named Sap. God, he’s fucked. Seriously though, he should be less worried about protecting his little cousin’s virtue in the future and more worried about himself (_in that his virtue is still completely and utterly intact and he really _really_ needed to up his game if he didn’t want to die a virgin)_!

But yeah, what the hell had he been blabbering about in his head? Oh right, why he’s convinced that even though it’s mainly his fault he’s in the situation he’s in currently, it’s also Holly’s too.

Damn that pout!

He tries not to yank his one hand away as the small brush that the five year old is wielding goes beyond his badly bitten nail and onto the now exposed and sensitive skin. It tickles. He bites the inside of his cheek and then blows the air out of his mouth in one loud gush. It causes Holly’s short blond strands that have long fallen loose from her hair ties to fly wildly about.

Holly makes a bit of a noise, clucking at him in what he supposes is a fair imitation of Aunt Karen gently scolding.

“Don’t move Riiiichie!” She tacks on after the clucking and Richie can hear Mikey nearby snort in amusement.

“Yeah, don’t move, Richie.” His twin, the fucking dipshit, mutters, tone a little too gleeful. Mikey’s definitely the smarter twin, he muses internally, only mildly irritated. _He’s_ comfortable where he sits, reading through a comic, only periodically looking up to see how Richie and Holly are faring with a little smirk on his face that’s kept Richie from moving _too_ much or too often anyway.

“Fuck the shut up, Mikey-baby.” He returns lightly and the little girl stops mid-motion and glances at him with huge baby blue eyes.

“Richie!” She nearly squeals and places her free hand on his mouth. “Language.” It’s fucking cute and fucking irritating too. Being reprimanded by a fucking five year old.

“But he’s annoying meeeee kiddo. A man’s gotta retaliate any way he can and you’re not letting me move!” He manages to whine despite the little fingers poking at his lips. The movement apparently is now tickling her and she laughs at him, little nose wrinkling just a bit.

“I’ll be done soon-soon! Promise!” And with that, the little girl dips her little brush back in the bottle of nail polish and Richie can’t help but wince a little at the colors that are now spread on more than half of his fingernails.

“You are so making me out to be hella gay, short stuff.”

“Richie…” Mikey’s tone is a clear, _shut it_, as his twin gets up and slaps the comic book he’d been reading on top of Richie’s head. Rather hard. Oooh that fucker. Just wait until Richie’s let loose and freed from this… _manicure_.

“Gay? What’s that mean? Pretty?” Holly asks, not at all bothered as her little tongue sticks out just a bit as she goes back to concentrating on her artwork. She’d declared earlier on that Richie’s nails needed to match his bracelet. The first she’d ever made him that is. Richie would have preferred an all black look to his nails to be honest but that was seemingly the only color the munchkin didn’t own.

“Sure. Real pretty.” Richie heaves a sigh and rolls his eyes at the look Mikey’s giving him. His one hand’s done. So this should be okay, right? Sure, short stuff had told him it needed to dry but surely by now, it had to be dry, right? In any case, he expertly moves his hand and gives Mikey _the_ finger. “But actually, if we wanna be all boringly technical about it, it means happy or fun in French.” He adds, giving his brother a challenging look. A definite, fight me, mama’s boy. You know I’m right, look.

“Oh.” She nods at that and glances back at him happily. “That’s good. I want you to be pretty AND happy and having fun.”

“What’s going on here…?”

…

Will pokes his head into the twin’s room after having been told where he’d find them. He hadn’t quite known what to expect. All he knows is, it wasn’t this. He can’t help but lean into the doorway and watch for a bit.

Richie’s lanky form is in the most awkward – almost broken – looking position. The upper half of his body is on the bed, one hand waving his middle finger in the air in Mike’s general direction while the other is being held still by Holly. The rest of Richie’s body is in a weird sit-squat on the floor, one leg waving to a beat that Will isn’t sure is keeping the current tempo of the song blasting in the room. It’s almost like an angry cat’s tail, lashing out and the mental image of the twins as cats suddenly makes Will laugh inside just a bit.

The youngest of the Wheelers is all curled up on the bed, head low as she inspects the work she’s doing and Will finds his amusement growing as he realizes that Holly is painting Richie’s nails. In very bright colors. She has several little bottles of the different colors strewn about Richie’s bed. Will can already see that the green, the red, the yellow, blue, and the pink have already been used on the first hand. It looks like she’s working through the orange and that next, she’ll move onto some purple. If he’s making sense of her organized chaos, that is and he’s not one hundred percent confident that he is.

Mike is watching the two of them, standing and looking mildly unimpressed at the middle finger and probably, knowing his best friend the way he does, the language being used around his little cousin. Still his entire body screams of being also incredibly fond at the two who are in front of him. It shows in the way that he’s completely relaxed, no tension to be found in the tall lanky body.

Will is quite sure all three of them are too in tune with one another to realize they have an audience and so he’s just a little startled when he realizes that Mike’s dark eyes are looking at him and that his friend gives him a little jerk of the head in greeting. There’s a look on his face that goes from unimpressed to clearly asking Will, can you believe this? There’s a slight roll of the eyes and a smile on Mike’s face that lights up his entire face.

Will straightens out where he stands, amused affection burning up inside of him. It’s these little moments that he wishes he could continually collect. He doesn’t have Jonathan’s gift in photography. But maybe, maybe…

There’s a sudden itch to sketch the moment down. Maybe Mike still has one of his many old sketchbooks hidden around here. He’d like that, if he could sketch the scene in front of him. Join without truly joining or disrupting the playful warmth of an ordinary moment. Capture Richie and Mike in their element, with their littlest cousin and really, honestly, being the best brothers a kid could ask for.

But in order to do that…

“What’s going on here…?” He asks softly, smile playing on his lips. He chuckles just a bit when both Richie and Holly jump up, startled at a new voice joining their own. “You’ve got… what did you say? Happy nails?”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me, cutie pie,” Richie mutters, his only free hand suddenly grasping at his t-shirt right over his heart. “You gave me a fucking heart atta-mph…”

“Language, language!” Holly sings, eyes wide, both hands going to cover Richie’s mouth. She’s in such a state to stop Richie from cursing more and possibly getting in trouble now that he’s back that she doesn’t pay attention to the little brush and the way it’s now smearing nail polish all over his high cheekbone. Will laughs outright and Mike can’t help but join him. Richie’s eyebrows have shot up super high, so high they’re for once clearly seen above his thick glass frames.

“You tell him Hols,” Mike chortles. “And continue painting his face as you do… he’ll look really pretty then.” The little girl notices what she’s done and gives a cute little shriek, hands moving away from Richie’s mouth to suddenly rubbing Richie’s cheek. It’s clear that she’s hoping to get the nail polish off the pale skin. She does get most of it off (_uses her own spit and thumb despite Richie’s squawking protests that she ignores in a way that again fully mirrors her mother to a T)_ but there’s still a bit of glimmer there. And redness from the rubbing.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” Richie mutters to the kid, hiding his face in his upper arm as she decides she’s done the best she could to salvage his cheek and now, she really should be returning to finishing his fingers.

In the midst of the (_slight_) chaos that had temporarily erupted, Will has been able to get settled on Mike’s bed, back supported by the wall. Mike had read him easily enough, whether just by looking at him or by his powers, Will doesn’t know. But he has indeed read him because Will has a hard cover book resting on his knees and a stack of unlined loose-leaf papers next to him. It’s not quite as good as a sketchbook but it’s better than a regular school notebook.

He smiles to himself again as he peeks over his knees and looks out at the scene again.

Mike’s back to reading on the other end of his bed, closer to his twin and cousin, eyes glancing up here and again to simply take the pulse of the room. His amused smirk is still there and only grows at seeing how Richie continues to hide his face.

Will watches as Mike reaches over to simply fluff his twin’s growing locks gently. _That_ makes Richie let loose a sound that’s a mix between a huff and a snort. Maybe would have been a word that got censored and lost into an indecipherable sort of sound instead. But it does make Richie tilt his head just so that Will can see his expression now.

Irritated pout.

Will would bet money though that the irritation is feigned. It melts too quickly off his face as his eyes simply look back at Holly and the way she’s concentrating. She’s singing softly under her breath and it really is… just super adorable.

Will gets the tingling sensation in his fingers again and stops fighting it. He gets lost in drawing, trying to capture the scene, and in doing so, forgets that he’s become part of the scene.

It’s only when he looks up because something in his drawing is off (_the way Richie can contort his body is really fucking hard to capture_), that he’s startled, and his heart gives a funny lurch at realizing that Richie’s watching him. The expression on Richie’s face is a bit hard to describe.

Like he’s lost in thought. Yet utterly relaxed. Searching maybe? Fond. Then caught and there’s a tinge of a blush that hits his cheeks.

Mike snorts and Will’s eyes move to him, missing how Richie’s blush gets darker and his eyes squint into a glare.

Will is left utterly perplexed as to what Richie did to get smacked by a comic book but he does, and Mike doesn’t explain. Just moves away slightly to not get smacked right back in retaliation.

The rest of their afternoon continues to have that warm, relaxed undercurrent despite the fact that some chaos does erupt when the rest of the gang surely makes their way over with both El and Max complimenting Holly’s work and agreeing to be her next canvasses and Lucas looking slightly worried, he’s going to be asked to get his nails painted too (_After all, he’s a big brother and he knows how this works. Erica had definitely used him and/or his toys to practice)_. That leads to a history lesson from Dustin about make-up and masculinity and the changing trends through the years that well… you can guess, can’t you? Richie tries to interrupt and tease his friend about the lecture and it all gets rowdy and loud but it’s happy.

Will can’t quite capture it all, but he does get a few scenes sketched out that he thinks are good enough. Still, his favorite will be the first one of that day and he can’t help but smile as he glances at it again later that night. Yeah, the warmth is there alright and he’s just grateful that he’ll always have this to remind him of that moment.

A/N - Hello! I wanted a moment of cuteness and happiness for our boys and this is what came of it. I hope you all enjoy and that you're all safe and sound. <3


End file.
